Cerca:hove

Josh Mason’s new collection, "Wave Salt +7," emerges from an oblique origin. Unearthed from a dormant hard drive, it documents a set of work sessions only partially recoverable, their original continuity and intent fractured by time and technical failure. What remains is a constellation of mercurial gestures that proves, against all odds, to be entirely consonant with Mason’s ongoing musical concerns.

In a sense, the very condition of partiality proves generative, with elision operating on multiple levels - structural, sonic, and archival - shaping both the music itself and the circumstances of its (re)appearance. Phrases surface only to be truncated or displaced, hovering at the edge of resolution, and transitions are implied rather than fully enacted. Absence functions not as a deficit, but as an important compositional resource.

Central to the album’s sound is a distinctive use of vocoding. Deployed not to simulate vocal presence but as a tool for tonal sculpting, it yields a shifting lattice of smeared harmonics, angular melody, and attenuated noise. Sounds are pressed through one another, their edges softened, shifted, or selectively erased, producing surfaces simultaneously articulated and porous. Rather than reconstructing a lost whole, the album posits a mode of listening attuned to gaps, interruptions, and unstable forms. Even so, in keeping with Mason’s broader practice, this music remains grounded in melodic logic and a distinctly human scale, ensuring that its fragmentary structures register not solely as experiments, but as expressions of proximity and feeling.

Peach’s Soak Vol. 1 is a cross-Canadian link-up with Mood Hut that moves through slower, deeper waters.

The mini-LP was written after a tour through Asia that opened up something new in how Peach approaches making music. The turning point, as she tells it, came during a visit to a neighbourhood sento in Tokyo, while surrounded by steam rising in suspended time, something clicked about the relationship between the body and the sounds she wanted to make.

She’d been learning about cycle synching and working out with the phases of her hormonal cycle, respecting energy fluctuations throughout the course of a month, and decided to apply the approach to writing music. She allowed shifts in energy to guide tempo, density, and emotional tone rather than strictly answering to the floor.

Soak came out of this exploration, sketched and layered with field recordings from her trips to Vietnam and the Philippines during a challenging time in her life. Fragments of heat, air, and shoreline are absorbed into the music itself. Vapourous pads, low-end weight, fractured percussion, and melodies hover at the edge of dissolution. Water runs structurally through the record in surges, in tidal pacing, in the slow accumulation of texture.

Wherever this music finds you, please enjoy the Soak.

zake has long mastered the art of go-slow pacing with gradual changes in the density and timbre of his synths. Here, four extended ambient pieces unfold through slow-moving synth layers and sustained tonal clusters shaped by hospital room stillness on this new one from the ever present ambient don, zake. 'Hh I' opens with low-frequency drones and faint harmonic shifts that hover without a rhythmic anchor. 'Hh II' introduces higher tones with subtle detuning, creating tension. 'Hh III' darkens through thicker layering and reduced harmonic movement while 'Hh IV' thins the texture with long decay tails. Another immersive gem.

Carrier’s debut album features eight elegantly rude arrangements that dance in negative space between Photek’s frictional syncopations, Rhythm & Sound’s dubwise minimalism, and Torsten Pröfrock’s fractured dynamics, bolstered on two tracks by contributions from Voice Actor and Memotone, summoning a noirish, jazzier frisson to his signature metrics and temporalities.

Since hard-snagging our ears and feet in 2023 with 12”s for FELT and his own eponymous label, Guy Brewer’s Carrier has become the go-to project for anyone who had almost given up on chasing these sorts of ultra-subtle but vitally distinctive new permutations in dance music. For the past two years, his unpredictable variations within a style have kept us all tip-toed and seat-edged with organisations of a finely chiselled percussive palette and smouldering ambient noise that distils the salient aspects and spirits of D&B, dub techno, electro-acoustic music, and trip hop with unique traction. In effect, he’s enacted a clear leap of imagination from previous work issued as part of Commix and solo as Shifted that only continues to reveal hallucinatory psychoacoustics on this first album detail.

»Rhythm Immortal« sees Brewer tilt the project into slower, resoundingly more atmospheric realms, better to luxuriate in the instinctive guile and integer-stepping style ’n’ pattern of his incredible sound. At the album’s poles, a vocal cameo by cult gynoid Voice Actor follows from Gavsborg’s on a preceding 7” single to ideally model his sound’s mutability and compatibility with trip hop forms, and Memotone helps seal the deal with a hovering glow lent to »Offshore«, whilst Carrier jostles the reins throughout with masterful control of his thing, crisply purposed to the album canvas. In that context, it’s perfectly adaptable to bodies both supine or in motion, ushering a hypnagogic sway with »A Point Most Crucial«, and hingeing around the slightest interplay of 16th-note hi-hat ruffles and recoiling reverbs on »Outer Shell«, or blissfully stepping on knife-edge 2-step on »Wave After Wave«.

The album conveys a deeply personal pulse and spiritual devotion to that kind of all-tension-no-release mode typical of so much music we love – from Kode9’s earliest re-factoring of Prince to Photek’s »Ni-Ten-Ichi-Ryu«, from T++/Dynamo and Traktor’s asymmetric dynamics to Burial’s shockout debut – refactored with a rare conviction in its unspoken powers to activate the eyes-shut imagination.

"Heith and Tarawangsawelas met at the University of Traditional music in Bandung in 2017. Their collaboration has been evolving since then, both in person and remotely. Recording and arranging songs over a long period of time and across a vast geographical distance has lent their practice a distinct character. This distinctive distance allows the possibility to see things from different perspectives and creates music that hovers both in place and out of it. Here, in this music, we are both inside the Sundanese Land, and outside of it, both on the European continent and not. This record carries compositions from one side of the globe to the other, catching spirits and energies from different places, societies and rituals."

A guitar stands alone in Wedding, that metropolitan biotope in the western center of Berlin, caught in constant transformation between idyll and abyss. It lets its gaze wander, unsettled, almost shy, until it encounters a trumpet, with which it begins a cautious, then ever more intimate pas de deux.
Welcome to the second studio album by the Berlin-based band Conic Rose.
The album title Wedding is no coincidence. The story of Conic Rose is closely intertwined with the Berlin neighborhood that gives the record its name. The band's studio is located here, and both studio albums were created in the immediate vicinity of the small river Panke. This place settles over the music like a warming patina. The album feels as though the musicians and the neighborhood have invited one another to get to know each other. Not least because Wedding also means marriage. These marriages between a band and an urban landscape, a fading past and an emerging future, fear and hope - unfold in every single song on Wedding.
For their second album, Conic Rose repositioned themselves completely. Not in terms of personnel, but in the question of how to move forward. Conic Rose still sound like Conic Rose; their distinctive blend of cinematic jazz, ambient textures and guitar-led contemporary music remains untouched. And yet Wedding is, in many ways, the conceptual counterpart to their debut album Heller Tag. Where the debut documented movement within an urban setting, Wedding describes a state of being. Behind every piece seems to hover a large question mark.The group opens up its palette, allowing more influences, becoming at once more subtle, more profound, more filigree. It is less about definition than about the spaces in between. The most immediately striking difference from the previous album is the strong presence of the guitar. In Bertram Burkert's playing, many voices seem to converge. His yearning openness forms an equal counterpoint to Döben's trumpet and flugelhorn. Blurred and layered sounds occasionally make the ground seem to slip away beneath one's feet, while Döben's gliding lines create both closeness and distance. Together, the band express in a deeply subtle way a sense of life that corresponds precisely to our time. Something lurks in the background, omnipresent yet still unnameable. Conic Rose need no words to convey this feeling of uncertainty with remarkable eloquence. Perhaps this has something to do with Wedding being a place of confrontational introspection, but Conic Rose confront the escape from escape itself. With the recording and release of Wedding, this process is far from complete. The seed only begins to grow in the listener's ear. With every listen and the echo it leaves behind in memory, the studio bud continues to bloom. The album is merely the point of departure. What ultimately matters is what it sets in motion within those who encounter it.

Originally released on Ezekiel Honig's Anticipate label in 2007, Standing on a Hummingbird is the debut album by Canadian sound artist Mark Templeton, now appearing for the first time on vinyl, newly remastered by Giuseppe Ielasi and cut by LUPO. Working at the intersection of post-glitch, electroacoustic ambient, and textural minimalism, Templeton composes through restraint and erosion, building patient and richly tactile pieces primarily from acoustic sources - fingerpicked guitar, plaintive banjo, muted accordion tones - subjected to careful processes of granulation, filtering, and environmental masking. These gestures never overwhelm the source material; instead, they wonderfully destabilize it. Melodies appear briefly, only to dissolve into dense atmospheres of field recordings: distant streets, birds, water, air. Sounds hover, vibrate, and vanish, much like the wing beating latent in the album’s title.

Tracks such as “Pattern For a Pillow” and “Amidst Things Uncontrolled” articulate this approach with particular clarity, setting languid acoustic figures against churning granular backdrops that feel at once sheltering and unstable. Elsewhere, moments of fragile clarity - fluttering guitar lines, reedy accordion tones - briefly break the surface before being absorbed back into the field.

Heard today, the record offers a clarion, almost spartan strain of textural ambient music: intricate yet unforced, shaped by human touch rather than automated excess. Its refusal of spectacle feels especially vital in a landscape saturated with maximalist digitalia - a reminder that electronic music’s most enduring gestures often occur where sound is allowed to tremble and hold itself just long enough to be felt before disappearing once again. (Alex Cobb, 2026)

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Pete Lambrou, the visionary composer and multi-instrumentalist behind VLMV (pronounced "Alma"), is one of the most singular voices emerging from the ambient, post-rock, and experimental scenes in the UK. With a career that spans atmospheric solo work, film and television scoring, and evocative live performance, Lambrou has carved out a distinctive sonic universe he describes as "ambient-ish post-something" (Pete Lambrou) a playful yet accurate summation of a sound that is at once genre-fluid and deeply immersive. The album takes its title from Sara Teasdale's 1918 poem and Ray Bradbury's later short story, both of which imagine a world continuing quietly after humanity's disappearance. This idea became the gravitational centre around which the record formed. Written during a period of deep engagement with climate fiction and ecological thought, `There Will Come Soft Rains` reflects on humanity's legacy, its technological ambition, and its uneasy relationship with the natural world. A century on from Teasdale's poem, the balance of power feels less certain, and Lambrou's music inhabits that tension with remarkable subtlety. "The initial ideas stem mostly from chaos, randomness or sound exploration and then get shaped as I go. Typically, and certainly for this album. It's evolved since album 1, which was more song / chord based. It's a fun process of finding the sound and then working out whether it's speaking to me - or merely just a cool noise. That's fun, but it sometimes can't evolve or progress, so then begins the long journey of shaping it into some sort of song format - which doesn't have to be a-typica,l but whatever feels right to me. The subject matter and overall theme is important too - it's got to all make sense within itself. There's no point having a slowly creeping theme and then rush the music." (Pete Lambrou) VLMV embody an emotional honesty that works with patience and nuance. Whether you're encountering his music for the first time or returning to its quiet depths, VLMV offers an aural space that resonates long after the final note fades. Lambrou's singular sonic language sits at the intersection of ambient, post-rock, modern classical, and experimental electronic music, while remaining unmistakably human at its core. "Instrumentally it's far more synth based - as soon as I had the concept, I wanted to make sure technology clash and marry with traditional instruments (at different times) in a sort of slow-moving dance I suppose. One is nature, one is human development and technology. Sometimes working together and sometimes in opposition. On my previous albums I'd say that at least half of the tracks started life as songs, whereas with `There Will Come Soft Rains` I think the majority (if not all) started as experiments in sound." (Pete Lambrou) Sonically, the album is VLMV at its most cinematic and textural. Warm, intimate piano figures and elegiac string arrangements are set against unstable modular synthesis, fractured rhythms, and evolving sound design. The organic and the artificial are locked in a slow, shifting dialogue, mirroring the album's central themes. At times the music feels tender and nostalgic, at others unpredictable and mournful, yet it never tips into despair. Instead, a quiet resilience runs throughout the record. "The album is slightly unusual in that it was mixed in Dolby Atmos before being mixed down to stereo. Most, if not all, do it the other way round. That's because I got to work with a superb mix engineer who just happens to live opposite. It was extremely random and lucky, moving to a tiny hamlet in the South of England and there being a Dolby Atmos studio opposite with a genius of an engineer. We had in mind that we would do it this way round and enjoy the mix process and give everything its own space - it still had issues when folding down to stereo, but overall a more pleasurable mix!" (Pete Lambrou) There Will Come Soft Rains has a geological sense of time: themes creep, expand, erode, and reform, resisting conventional structures in favour of something more patient and immersive. Each sound exists because it needs to; they move, recede, and emerge with a three-dimensional clarity that enhances the music's cinematic quality, giving each element room to breathe while maintaining an enveloping sense of cohesion. Lambrou's unique voice is Intimate and fragile, his vocals hover above the instrumentation, a guiding thread through the expansive soundscapes, drawing listeners closer into the emotional core of each piece. "Long time vocal collaborator Anja Madhvani did lots of harmonies on the album - I wanted to include her voice as much as possible on this album. In terms of string players - 3/4 have been long term collaborators with me. Marie Schreer actually recorded all strings on my first album ALMA, and Fraser & Clodagh have worked on every album (and occasional live shows) since Stranded Not Lost. In terms of art - Joel Cammarata designed the cover, and accompanying art - he designed Sing With Abandon and I absolutely adore his work, but also - he's so great at understanding and developing and capturing the concept." (Pete Lambrou) Layered harmonies drift through the music like distant signals or half-remembered voices. Madhvani's presence adds a human fragility to the album's vast soundscapes, reinforcing the sense of memory and longing that runs beneath the surface. The strings, performed by a close circle of trusted collaborators, further ground the record in warmth and physicality, acting as a counterweight to the synthetic elements that threaten to unravel it. "Despite the heavy subject matter, I wanted to create an album that imparts hope and optimism, marrying traditional instrumentation as nostalgia, with technological innovation through the randomness of modular synths." (Pete Lambrou) The partnership with Pelagic Records feels both organic and significant. Known for championing artists who value emotional weight, sonic ambition, and artistic integrity, the label provides a natural home for VLMV's work. Lambrou's music shares Pelagic's ethos: immersive, patient, and unafraid of scale whether intimate or vast. With There Will Come Soft Rains, Pete Lambrou has crafted a work that feels timely without being didactic, expansive without being overwhelming. It stands as a quiet, but powerful statement that lingers long after the final notes fade. FOR FANS OF Sigur Ros * Olafur Arnalds * Radiohead * Keaton Henson * This Will Destroy You

Oceanine, Jolanda Moletta’s third album and her first for Beacon Sound, is a powerful and ethereal statement of artistic community. Expanding on her previous work, each track represents a collaboration with a different female vocalist, with the foundational elements being generated entirely by her own voice. By turns haunting, enchanting, and inspiring, you won’t want to come up for air once you’ve been pulled under. Representing a
musical practice that is distinctly feminist, this is an album with a longer view in mind, to an age when the altars were to goddesses and women were centered as powerful beings representing the earth’s cycles of regeneration and renewal. Oceanine then, in all its beauty, can be viewed as an album of survival. It is deeply transportive, accessing something that lies within all of us. As the late, great Lithuanian folklorist and archaeologist Marija Gimbutas noted, “We must refocus our collective memory. The necessity for this has never been greater as we discover that the path of 'progress' is extinguishing the very conditions for life on earth.”

Jolanda Moletta is a multimedia artist and one-woman electronic choir. She creates wordless compositions through extended vocal techniques, integrating wearable-controlled live processing, alongside symbolic visuals. Moletta considers her performances to be a collective ritual and creates her Sonic & Visual Spells following the cycles of nature and the moon. Jolanda's 2022 critically acclaimed album Nine Spells was released on the Ambientologist label, followed by Night Caves on Whitelabrecs in 2025. Moletta’s artistic practice is a radical and spiritual journey through sound art, ritual, and the symbolic archaeology of the feminine.

Oceanine is inspired by sirens, water nymphs, and the timeless call of the sea. At its core lies Jolanda’s deep, lifelong connection to the Mediterranean Sea and to the ancient and modern myths and folklore that have emerged from its waters. Growing up by the Mar Ligure, Jolanda was surrounded by stories carried by salt, wind, and waves: legends of sirens, echoes of ancient voices, and the sea as both origin and oracle. This intimate relationship with the Mediterranean is not merely a backdrop, but a living source that shapes Oceanine’s emotional, symbolic, and sonic world.

Each track features a different female vocalist, creating a rich tapestry of voices, styles, and perspectives. This artistic choice not only broadens the album’s sonic palette, but also deepens its narrative core: celebrating the power, beauty, and mystique of feminine energy through myth, history, and sound.

The entire album is built exclusively from the human voice, processed and layered, yet always remaining voice, and nothing else. For each piece, Jolanda invited every vocalist involved to contribute a raw stem: a short, unedited melodic fragment of just a few seconds, inspired by the album’s themes. These intimate vocal seeds became the foundation of each track: the guest artists’ voices appear as brief, melodic stems, while the entire surrounding “orchestral” fabric is created solely from Jolanda’s own layered and processed voice. In this way, Jolanda’s voice becomes the Ocean itself, embracing, absorbing, and carrying the sirens’ calls within a vast, immersive soundscape. Every song is a unique expression of the feminine experience, revealing its depth, complexity, and emotional range, echoing the call of the sea and the many faces of the siren archetype.

The figure of the siren has transformed across centuries. In myths of Ancient Greece and Rome, sirens were hybrid beings, part woman, part bird, whose irresistible songs lured sailors to their doom. During the Middle Ages, the image shifted toward the half-woman, half-fish figure, often associated with temptation and danger. Historically, the voice of women has often been feared. Sirens were considered harbingers of misfortune not simply because they seduced or destroyed, but because they were powerful liminal beings.

In Ancient Greek, sirens functioned as psychopomps: figures who existed between worlds and guided souls, especially between life and death. Their songs were believed to carry forbidden knowledge, including prophetic insight and the ability to reveal truths about fate and the future. The danger of the sirens lay in what they revealed: knowledge that humans were not meant, or ready, to hear.

Oceanine confronts this legacy head-on. The voices heard throughout the album are not merely beautiful: they are dark and luminous, wild and enchanting, magical, soothing, dreamy, and at times fractured or distorted. They whisper, lament, beckon, and enchant. Like sirens, they skim the surface of the water and sink into its depths, hovering on the edge between tenderness and danger, vulnerability and power. They rise toward the sky, dissolve into mist, and return as echoes charged with raw, elemental emotion: voices that seduce, warn, mourn, and remember. They refuse to be reduced to decoration.

Alongside the album’s release in May, Oceanine will also unfold as a visual and performative work through a short art film. The film includes a live session recorded inside a sea cave facing the Mar Ligure, the very coastline where Jolanda spent her childhood, dreaming of sirens and listening to the sea as if it were speaking directly to her. This site-specific performance reconnects the music to its place of origin, allowing the voice to resonate within stone, water, and air, and transforming the cave into both a sanctuary and a threshold between myth and reality.

What if the sirens’ songs were considered dangerous because they carried another truth, an ancient truth long forgotten?

Oceanine embraces the idea that we are still deeply woven into myth. Though we may see ourselves as rational and modern beings, our world is saturated with ancient symbols and archetypes, often distorted, simplified, or stripped of their original meaning. And if those symbols are allowed to shift, if the mirror once held by the siren becomes an invitation to look beyond appearances and into what has been obscured, then we may finally uncover a deeper truth and reclaim the voice that was always ours.

Oceanine is not just an album. It is a reclamation, a spell, and a call from the depths.

Fresh from releasing projects on Method 808 and Future Classic, landing a huge collaboration with Chloé Caillet, and delivering an official remix for Fatboy Slim, PPJ are entering a new chapter in full force. Their expansive take on global street sounds, ranging from neoperreo to Miami bass, gets a cool re-coating.

Led by the magnetic vocalist Páula, with production from Povoa (individually supported by Four Tet, Ben UFO, and Barry Can't Swim, with recent releases on Live From Earth), the duo operates in maximalist mode: playful, sensual, and slightly unhinged.PPJ’s new era, JOKER, embraces a figure that appears everywhere from card decks to carnival culture as a symbol that mirrors their own DNA: funny, eerie, seductive, unpredictable. The EP leans further into club territory, but rather than polishing their edges, PPJ amplify them.

At the emotional core of the record sits “Coeur,” co-produced with Chloé Caillet. It begins with an MPB-tinged foundation flirting with bossa nova. It’s unmistakably Brazilian, bathed in sunset hues before being sped up and twisted into a dance-floor-ready electronic form. The groove shimmers with tension: warm percussion, elastic basslines, and Páula’s voice hovering between intimacy and tease. It feels like a remix of itself, romantic, but slightly untrustworthy.

If “Coeur” glows, “To Nem Ai” is a slow burner. A very deep and downtempo house cut, it unfolds slowly, almost luxuriously, guided by sensual vocals that feel whispered directly into the ear of the listener. A hypnotizing piano sample that feels like a late-night confession. It’s the kind of record that transforms a dancefloor into something tactile.

Elsewhere, “Me Pega” is a high-energy reinterpretation of the tech-house sounds from Santa Catarina, one of southern Brazil’s most feverish party states, twisted and accelerated for ferocious impact. Drawing direct inspiration from Sarro, a raw and vibrant Brazilian street dance, the track captures physical intensity in its purest form: sweat, bass pressure, collective release.

Its counterpart, “Tem Carnaval” channels Páula’s vivid storytelling into a thunderous ode to Rio’s carnival spirit, euphoric, chaotic, cinematic landed just in time for this year’s celebrations.

On “Sexy Doce,” rugged electroclash melodies collide with unexpected references. “It was inspired by Budots, which is dance music from the streets in the Philippines,” Povoa explains. “Then we mixed it with Páula’s Brazilian vocals. Baile funk is similarly from the streets, so there is a connection.” The result is raw yet futuristic, a cross-continental flirtation that feels both underground and explosive.

With this new EP, PPJ make music like they’re tuning into a dozen pirate frequencies at once. Pirate radio from Rio to Berlin to Manila intercepting fragments of street culture, sensuality, and chaos, and stitching them into something deliriously cohesive.
JOKER doesn’t just nod to club culture. It challenges it, twists expectation and leaves a lasting impression.

On their seventh studio album, Lost Cause Lover Fool (due April 24th on Far Cry/Thirty Tigers), The Milk Carton Kids deliver 9 songs that, more than ever, invite listeners to lean in close and hover in the small moments the album magnifies. Much has changed since The Milk Carton Kids — Los Angeles-based singer-songwriters Kenneth Pattengale and Joey Ryan — burst on the Folk scene in 2011. And The Milk Carton Kids have changed too. But at least one constant remains. Pattengale and Ryan continue to make music that entices us turn down the volume on a chaotic world and dwell as long as possible on what matters most. With rootsy arrangements, Lost Cause Lover Fool expands on the duo’s signature minimalist sound their fans love while also, somehow, making it even smaller. Lost Cause Lover Fool begins with the lonesome pluck and strum of the banjo on “Blue Water.”

Often employed either for lightning-speed or rhythm, here the banjo is handled carefully, with reticence, so that it feels more like light cast across a stretch of grass than a whole bluegrass instrument. Lyrically, this album-opener zooms in on a snapshot of a man walking along a riverside, remembering the child that used to lay on his chest who has now grown to share his worried mind. It’s a moment so small it might easily have been dismissed, except that it holds an emotion as universal as it is fleeting. Lost Cause Lover Fool magnifies many such small moments, turns them into mesmerizing worlds, and reminds us — pleads with us — to pay attention to them as they go by.

Uncompromising Dutch Black Metal – DOODSWENS’ sophomore album out in April via Svart Records Doodswens is a Dutch Black Metal band formed in 2017 by I. Live she performs the drums and vocals, joined by R. & P. on bass and guitar. Doodswens translates to Deathwish, but the meaning and heavy load to the word in Dutch translates better to Driven by Death. The self-titled sophomore album by Doodswens is out on April 17th 2026.

After establishing themselves in the Dutch scene, Doodswens gained an international following doing tours with Marduk & Gorgoroth. Doodswens’ performances are ceremonial and ritualistic, which have been reported to be as uplifting as they are devastating, depending on the demons you bring them to offer. Whatever you carry with you will be exposed. They like to confront instead of bringing comfort. If you've been on the verge of ending your life, or think about it more often than not, then you're living with a death wish. A heavy feeling, like a gray cloud hovering around you, gasping for breath and blurring your vision. This is incomprehensible to anyone. Except for those caught in the middle of it. But this album isn't about giving up. It's about finding strength, about someone who regains new energy after facing death.

This album isn't about wishing for death, but the death of the wish. Band’s establisher I. talks about the new single "Driven by Death": “For me, it was on the way back from a spontaneous adventure, full of music, new connections, and inspiration. A path without a plan and a journey without a goal, with only a very strong feeling that this is where I'm meant to be. With a misty horizon of endless asphalt before me. A large tree at the edge of the road, in the corner of my eye, screaming that this could just be the end. But what I felt wasn't fear, it was happiness. With the thought that if I crash into that tree now, I won't care at all. Because up until this moment, I've done everything possible, experienced every adventure, and each time, gotten up again and faced life with that gray cloud around my head. I have a death wish, so if it happens now, it's okay, and I'm at peace with it. This was the moment I realized, I'm not afraid of life. I'm driven by death.”

Uncompromising Dutch Black Metal – DOODSWENS’ sophomore album out in April via Svart Records Doodswens is a Dutch Black Metal band formed in 2017 by I. Live she performs the drums and vocals, joined by R. & P. on bass and guitar. Doodswens translates to Deathwish, but the meaning and heavy load to the word in Dutch translates better to Driven by Death. The self-titled sophomore album by Doodswens is out on April 17th 2026.

After establishing themselves in the Dutch scene, Doodswens gained an international following doing tours with Marduk & Gorgoroth. Doodswens’ performances are ceremonial and ritualistic, which have been reported to be as uplifting as they are devastating, depending on the demons you bring them to offer. Whatever you carry with you will be exposed. They like to confront instead of bringing comfort. If you've been on the verge of ending your life, or think about it more often than not, then you're living with a death wish. A heavy feeling, like a gray cloud hovering around you, gasping for breath and blurring your vision. This is incomprehensible to anyone.

Except for those caught in the middle of it. But this album isn't about giving up. It's about finding strength, about someone who regains new energy after facing death. This album isn't about wishing for death, but the death of the wish. Band’s establisher I. talks about the new single "Driven by Death": “For me, it was on the way back from a spontaneous adventure, full of music, new connections, and inspiration. A path without a plan and a journey without a goal, with only a very strong feeling that this is where I'm meant to be. With a misty horizon of endless asphalt before me. A large tree at the edge of the road, in the corner of my eye, screaming that this could just be the end. But what I felt wasn't fear, it was happiness. With the thought that if I crash into that tree now, I won't care at all. Because up until this moment, I've done everything possible, experienced every adventure, and each time, gotten up again and faced life with that gray cloud around my head. I have a death wish, so if it happens now, it's okay, and I'm at peace with it. This was the moment I realized, I'm not afraid of life. I'm driven by death.”

Geoglyph is the new duo project by Alohn and Khey Mysterio, a convergence of two deeply singular practices into a single subterranean signal. Their debut album arrives as the eighth reference on Organic Signs, not as a collection of tracks but as a carved artifact: six inscriptions pressed into vinyl, mapping a sonic territory where time, rhythm and texture are no longer linear, but layered like geological memory.

Through Geoglyph, Alohn and Khey Mysterio convey a message from below, or beyond. A pulse engraved from forgotten times in the basement of reality, reactivated by abyssal basses, vibrating layers and fractured textures. Exhumed from the subterranean strata where psychedelic dub, mineral techno and fractal dubstep fuse into raw energy, their music becomes a point of contact: every beat, every silence, every oscillation acting as a coordinate toward another perception. What unfolds is not simply sound design, but an invocation, rhythms as sigils, timbre as gnosis, signals that seem to arrive already charged with intention.

Across the album, Alohn’s guitar notes fall like cascades through the mix, dissolving at times into controlled feedback and crystallizing into melodic fragments that hover between tension and release. These organic gestures are interwoven with Khey Mysterio’s dense low-end architectures and rhythmic frameworks, creating a constantly shifting terrain: from weightless transmissions and ritualistic voices to moments of overwhelming propulsion where the music suddenly breaks open with tectonic force. The record moves fluidly between meditative suspension and explosive motion, never settling into a single state for long.

A strong undercurrent of what has come to be known as “druidstep” runs through the album, a term coined within the 95 Open Tabs universe to describe a form of dubstep untethered from genre convention, rooted instead in bass as ritual, in groove as invocation. Here it meets dub-techno pulse, psychedelic echoes and high-velocity 4×4 pressure, drawing subtle influence from underground bass cultures without ever becoming referential. The result is a body of work that feels both ancient and forward-leaning, cyclical rather than linear: a living geoglyph that reveals different meanings depending on how (and where) it is read.

As the final movement accelerates into its closing phase, the album releases its energy outward, with frequencies stretched toward their limits, leaving behind the trace of a completed ceremony. In this sense, Geoglyph’s debut stands as a defining moment within the Organic Signs continuum: a record that unfolds rather than explains, offering an experience to be entered, absorbed, and carried. With this release, the label continues to explore new sonic spaces, evolving and expanding while giving deeper meaning to its own essence. A message from beneath the surface, waiting for those willing to tune in.

Más de este género

Movetone Wax returns with a new release from label head Maik Yells: Maya EP, featuring two originals and two remixes from close collaborators DJ W!ld and Diego Krause.

On the A-side, Real B unfolds like a space in suspension — light pads hovering over a rhythmic base that insists on movement, yet denies narrative closure. while Maya locks into a hypnotic vocal loop and driving low end.

On the B-side, DJ W!ld delivers a phat-beats reinterpretation of Real B, and Diego Krause closes the EP on B2 with a precise, floor-focused take on Maya — all tracks sitting comfortably within the release while extending its reach on the dancefloor.

“Al destino”, the new album by Steve Pepe, began to take shape in 2023 after roughly a year of highly abstract sound research. The original intention was to create a dancefloor-oriented record, moving away from down-tempo structures, built around minimal, percussive compositions and high BPMs, with sound conceived primarily as a functional element.
In 2024, however, the process shifted. Less time was spent producing and more time reflecting. Emotions hovered between the urgencies of the present and unresolved past traumas, and almost without conscious intention, singing returned to the center of the project. It was not a calculated choice, but an inevitable one.
The resulting album does not draw its energy from distant places, nor does it focus on sonic experimentation as an end in itself. Instead, Al destino offers an intimate perspective on how memories and emotions shape the inner self, on the sensation of being simultaneously alone and deeply connected to everything, and on the struggle to reconcile feelings, sensations, love, and desire.

The breakthrough album. Enrico Rava's second solo record, recorded in Milan in January 1973 and released on the German BASF label, is nothing less than a cornerstone of Italian jazz-rock - the record that caught Manfred Eicher's attention and opened the doors to ECM. Rava himself has called it his breakthrough, and history proved him right.

The lineup is killer: John Abercrombie on guitar, Bruce Johnson on bass, Chip White on drums. Four musicians operating at the absolute peak of early seventies fusion energy - electric, cosmopolitan, burning with that particular fire that only existed in that brief window when jazz met rock and nobody knew the rules yet. Abercrombie, already on his way to becoming one of the most distinctive voices in electric jazz guitar, delivers some of his most ferocious early work here. White's drumming is relentless, pushing the music forward with an intensity that never lets up.

If Miles' Bitches Brew-era speaks to you, if Ian Carr's Nucleus gets you moving, if you know Sun Ra's Lanquidity and Don Cherry's Relativity Suite by heart - this is essential listening. Rava's vision was already fully formed: South American rhythms, Mediterranean warmth, free jazz ferocity, rock power - all flowing together without borders or categories. By the early seventies, Rava had absorbed everything - the New Thing, the European free scene, the electric revolution coming out of Miles' studio - and forged something entirely his own.

The seven tracks cover serious ground. "Bunny's Pie" introduces the music with an almost cosmic atmosphere of suspense, hovering in that liminal space before it trails off into the up-tempo vibrant frenzy of "Trial N. 5" - Abercrombie and Rava trading swirling solos at full intensity, the rhythm section locked in tight. "Dimenticare Stanca" moves from Rava's expressive balladic intro into pure funk, guitar and trumpet steering over the rhythmic drive with absolute confidence. The title track carries the lyrical feel and cadence of an Incan-Peruvian folksong - that cosmopolitan spirit made audible. "Fluid Connection" rides a funky bass riff into fusion heaven, with standout trumpet and guitar solos that build and release with perfect tension. "Cheerin' Cherry" pays homage to the great Don Cherry - Rava's spiritual mentor and fellow traveler in world music - exploring a North African soundscape that points toward the global jazz to come. Johnson's "Peace" closes the album with a minute and a half of serene, blissful calm - a moment of stillness after the storm.

This audiophile reissue - cut from the original masters, pressed by Pallas in Germany on 180gm vinyl, housed in a thick laminated hand-glued gatefold - does full justice to an album that remains a collector's holy grail.

Don't sleep on this one. Limited Edition.

Arriving twenty-six years after his debut Cell, Particle further sharpens the fractured electronics and muted melodic language explored on 2021’s From Stasis, presenting a crisper, more immediate set of compositions.

Cadoo, also widely known as a founding member of pioneering electronic project Gridlock, has used Dryft as a consistent outlet for his electronic work across decades, bridging early post-industrial IDM with more contemporary, restrained forms.

Long recognized for beat structures that feel precarious, rhythms that seem to strain, erode, and reassemble in real time, he approached Particle with a renewed focus on allowing these patterns to fully resolve. Melodic elements are given a more direct role, actively driving momentum rather than hovering in the margins.

Emphasizing clarity and immediacy, Particle favors tactile sound design and forward-pushing arrangements over density or abstraction. The result is a notably focused Dryft release that functions as an all-encompassing signpost for Cadoo’s electronic output to date, informed by decades of exploration while remaining resolutely forward-looking

With Hyperbola, Laima Adelaide frames speed as a condition of softness rather than impact. The fan- tasy of flying through the air with effortless move- ment forms its emotional core, as tracks move fast, yet nothing collides: rhythms skim the surface, tex- tures hover, and motion unfolds through glide inste- ad of strike. Energy is continuous and diffused, pro- ducing propulsion without aggression, momentum without weight.

The hyperbola operates as both image and method. Sounds trace curved trajectories, drawing close only to diverge again, suspended in a state of gentle tension. Elements never resolve into force, they re- main airborne, elastic, and permeable, as if shaped by an invisible geometry. Across the EP, velocity becomes a tool for lightness, revealing an ethereal space where motion is elegant, friction dissolves, and intensity is carried through grace rather than pressure.

Credits:
Mastering by HWA
Artwork and Graphic Design by Enrico Caldini
Distributed by One Eye Witness

Michel Houellebecq is, of course, well-known for his novels, translated into more than 40 languages, and his Goncourt Prize (The Map and the Territory, 2010), but perhaps less so for his debut album, released exactly a quarter of a century ago on Tricatel label. One can sense the influence of Serge Gainsbourg's L'Homme à la Tête de Chou, a disillusioned Procol Harum and a world-weary Burt Bacharach hovering over Houellebecq's poems in Présence Humaine, a now cult classic album orchestrated by Bertrand Burgalat and the musicians of Eiffel. Twelve thousand copies sold and a few concerts later, the writer decided (or so we thought) to bid farewell to the stage, only to generate more media attention though his literary success. Frédéric Lo is, of course, known as an exceptional lyricist, composer, arranger, and producer, author of a sublime fourth solo album (L'Outrebleu, released last March) and a master of collaborative work, notably with Bill Pritchard, Peter Doherty and Daniel Darc. Initially, Michel Houellebecq and Frédéric Lo met for the tribute album that the latter was planning for the tenth anniversary of Daniel Darc's death, but their recording of "Psalm XXIII" was, to their great disappointment, rejected by the label and therefore did not appear on the final version of Cœur Sacré (2023). Fortunately, every cloud has a silver lining, and the two men decided to take their collaboration a step further. Lo decided to set the writer's words to music, in his studio in Pantin. Raw, stripped-down music draped in electronica, adorned with piano and antediluvian drum machines, often minimalist, sometimes repetitive, provides the perfect backdrop for twelve tracks that question and reflect on humanity's past and future (if indeed there is one). Reflections on the human condition, 21st-century style, a work of speculative fiction conceived by two eternally modern "young lads," Souvenez-Vous de l'Homme (Remember Man) is an album that might occasionally evoke The Stranglers' La Folie, and, given the title, that's probably no coincidence. But above all, it's a hypnotic and melancholic album, uncompromising and captivating. Most importantly, it's an album like no other.

MEKONS - OUT OF DESPERATION (LUXURY CHICKEN SONG): ,Ein Luxus-Huhn ist was ganz Besonderes und Einzigartiges und hat einen hohen Wert. Es gibt auch ein handbemaltes Mekons-T-Shirt mit einem Huhn drauf, das eine Zigarette raucht. Hagar the Womb sind auch ganz besonders und einzigartig und haben einen hohen Wert, und ich bin froh, dass sie sich an dem Abend im Hawley Arms nicht wirklich getrennt haben, obwohl sie unseren Rider geklaut haben." - JON LANGFORD (Gründungsmitglied von Mekons, Three Johns und Waco Brothers), 2025 // HAGAR THE WOMB - FARE DODGING WITH THE MEKON'S RIDER (3 BEERS & A LEMON): Geschrieben von Ruth Elias & Chris Knowles. Aufgenommen bei Church Road Recording Company, Hove, von Paul Pascoe 2025. Hags: Ruth, Karen, Paul, Lorna, Mitch, Chris. Coverdesign & Illustration von Lorna Tiefholz. Text von Ruth. Der Labelaufdruck zeigt Chris, wie er eines der drei Biere im Zug trinkt. Dieser Song entstand kurz nachdem das dritte Bier getrunken war. ,Fare Dodging with the Mekon's Rider" entstand, nachdem wir vor ein paar Jahren in Brighton unsere Lieblingsband The Mekons supportet hatten. Im Gegensatz zu den Hags hatten sie einen reichhaltigen Rider, darunter eine Obstschale mit einer prächtigen Zitrone. Als wir uns auf den Weg zum Zug zurück nach London machten, steckte Ruth heimlich drei Bier aus dem Rider der Mekons in ihre Tasche und konnte sich dann nicht von der Zitrone trennen! Von Gesetzlosigkeit erfüllt, sind wir aus dem Zug ausgestiegen, nachdem uns gesagt wurde, dass wir nicht einsteigen könnten, weil wir die falschen Fahrkarten hatten. Wir haben die Biere getrunken, bevor der Zug den Bahnhof verließ, aber, liebe Leser, die Zitrone wurde nie verzehrt. Ein trauriges Ende für die Zitrusfrucht, aber in diesem Song, der unsere Errungenschaften des Abends feiert, wird sie nie vergessen werden.

Samurai Music offshoot SAIBAI welcomes legendary producer ASC to expand upon the label's widescreen strain of electronic music plumbing the depths between techno, electronica and broken beat.

ASC is the flagship project for James Clements, a prolific veteran of the scene who started releasing his distinctive twist on drum & bass back in the late 90s. Across a variety of aliases and many different label projects and collaborations, Clements has retained a strong artistic identity defined by steely atmospherics, rhythmic intrigue and precisely sculpted sound design. He brings those qualities to SAIBAI3.

On 'Raijin' the tempo prowls at 90 BPM, all the better to carry the bass snarls and haunted melodies hovering in the middle distance. 'Rasetsu' meanwhile hides its much sprightlier 150 pace behind a half time construction punctuated by a tactile, almost organic set of percussion. 'Kyubi' sinks into a deep, inky well of spatial sound design with just a light smattering of percussion and a weighty kick for guidance. 'Shigure' completes the picture with a mesmeric tapestry of shifting textures and brooding melancholy.

Clements has devoted much time recently to his ambient output, and it shows in the richness of the space he shapes around his needlepoint patterns, while his roots in more propulsive club music show their hand in subtle, understated ways. It's this balance that makes the release the perfect addition to SAIBAI's evolving story.

Limited to 200 copies

cLOUDDEAD's debut album, compiling six 10" EPs that appeared between 2000-2001, is aurally dense and obscured. A sprawling mass of miniature beat-suites and Dadaist lyrics, this strange and beautiful 3xLP would influence a myriad of sub-genres (cloud rap, hauntology, lo-fi hip-hop, etc.) in the two decades since its initial release.

Only the three members of cLOUDDEAD – Why?, Doseone and Odd Nosdam – can speak to the group's origins, but in the context of underground hip-hop towards the end of the 20th century, their arrival makes perfect sense. Cincinnati had a vital scene; home to Scribble Jam, an annual confluence of MCs, DJs, B-boys and graffiti artists. While the trio soon relocated to the Bay Area where they co-founded the Anticon collective, their Midwestern roots – in ramshackle basements of off-campus hovels, as the "cerberus of Southern Ohio" – would remain the atomic heart of their early recordings.

As Chris Martins writes in the liner notes, "The only reason we know their names today is because of how loudly and curiously they aired their insularity. They rewrote the entire world as they knew it through their own fucked perspective, and when those mysterious 10-inches started popping up in record shops, it wasn't just a puzzle to investigate: there seemed to be a whole cosmology hidden in those grooves."

Each side of the album represents one of those elusive 10-inches, each embodying a universe unto itself. Opening salvo "Apt. A" and "And All You Can Do Is Laugh" are perhaps most emblematic of the cLOUDDEAD experience. Why? and Dose create a new language through boundless non-sequiturs, sing-song non-choruses and call-and-response hooks, while Nosdam's dexterous production shifts from crackling ambience of Flying Saucer Attack to tight Ohio Players drum breaks and oblique film samples.

Taken all together, cLOUDDEAD is an original interpretation of hip-hop in the surreal Y2K glow – a bizarre meeting point between William Basinski's Disintegration Loops and MF DOOM's Operation: Doomsday. All it took was a Dr. Sample SP-202, Tascam cassette eight-track and cheap RadioShack mic. There's truly nothing like it.

This edition has been faithfully restored by Nosdam. European exclusive version comes on clear vinyl, incl. fold-out poster and liner notes insert.

Subconscio left the smallest town in Gargano to begin a new life in uncharted Bologna.
Leaving mother earth, he still retains a strong sense of that distant world, expressed through the senses of his inner child. The Subconscio
project finds its expression in music, where it blends Neo Soul, Hip Hop, and Electronica into a sound deeply influenced by individual experiences. Soft vibrations and relaxed lyrics are the means through which he expresses his devotion to creative freedom, moving with the urgency of someone who has finally found his voice. The word dáimōn originates from Ancient Greek and means divine messenger, a guiding
spirit that hovers in a middle ground, called metaxu, the same place where the soul resides, and acts as a link between God and humanity.*
"Daimon" is Subconscio's debut album, produced by Luzee. It's the intimate vision of a person suspended in his imagination, questioning
the identity of his own memory and how the places that led him to his NOW are actually his future. The present doesn't exist in the narrative.
It exists only in the connection between childhood memories and the adult perspective.
Giulio is his son and also his parent: the Subconscious; the "daimon" is the musical journey that connects these two ways of observing the
same memory. Nostalgic turmoil meets the desire to recognize oneself and fuel the obsession with music, because only this—albeit the least
apparent art—is the only one that can be the voice and bearer of the dimensions of consciousness.
Featuring on the album: Madbuddy and Claver Gold

Futura Resistenza is pleased to present the latest release from the prolific, restlessly creative composer-performer Anthony Pateras, two side-long pieces - one performed by Callum G'Froerer on double-bell trumpet, the other sung by Clara La Licata - in which soloists are accompanied by numerous pre-recorded tracks of their own instrument or voice, creating acoustic halls of mirrors where the distinction between live performer and recorded accompaniment becomes difficult to perceive. Palimpsest Geometry (2020) for double-bell trumpet & tape works with rapidly pulsed single trumpet notes, at brisk tempos that hover at the perceptual threshold between rhythm and tremolo. The interaction between different rates of pulse produces skittering echoes, as if G'Froerer's layers of trumpets were really a single sound bouncing around the sonic space. There Is A Danger Only Our Mistakes Are New (2021) for voice & tape goes to work on a see-sawing two-note melodic cell, insistently transposed and transposed again, hummed or sung with open vowels, contracting to a semitone and expanding to a minor third. More than anything in the canon of Western art music, the piece calls up the criss-crossing repeated figures of Inuit vocal games or the interlocking repetitions of Banda-Linda music, where rhythmic and harmonic displacements of repeated motifs fuse together individual parts into the illusion of an impossibly rich and multi-faceted unitary sonic organism. Essentially homogeneous in texture yet built up from constantly changing details, broadly static yet always moving and shifting, these pieces exemplify Pateras' recent work while also pushing it into a new, strikingly immediate direction. Here, form grows organically out of the material itself; the results are sparkling, immersive, and quietly uncompromising. (Francis Plagne)

French chanson, electro beats, pared-down or synthetic piano: at 21, Iliona draws on all of this. Plural, multifaceted, elusive. Yet her lyrics resonate as if one were singing heartache—and the love one hopes for—for the very first time.
She composes, records, and produces her tracks alone, determined to keep them as close as possible to the tunes, harmonies, and silhouettes she holds in her mind. This time, they are infused with the light of an intense love, and still carried by extreme sparseness in their arrangements: nothing—from electronic arpeggios to melodic autotune—is ever superfluous; everything has its place. Lifted by a new lightness, the tracks also echo the spirit of the yéyé sound Iliona has been listening to for a few years, without necessarily knowing the name of every songwriter or the mark they left behind. It’s their longing for carefree abandon that hovers over the hypnotic Si tu m’aimes demain and its music video inspired by the New Wave, the Beatles, and all those future memories you begin to build when you’re in love.


A gentle warmth also sweeps through the hazy doo-wop contours of Tête brûlée, and the lo-fi twist of Cocoon; but always with that veil of shadow that once floated over the apparent nonchalance of Françoise Hardy’s songs. That unease, that worried smile, resurfaces in the lovely pop gallop of Garçon manqué, an ode to the deepest friendships—the ones you hold in your arms to dance or, sometimes, to cry. Or in the delicate Cent fois, which whispers, “when will the movie scenes we quietly dreamed of come to life?”
The answer, perhaps, lies in wherever you hide, the party finds you, a superb soundtrack to an imaginary drama, whose venomous keyboards unfold the pictorial strength of Iliona’s songs.

NPVR is the avant garde duo made up of the late Peter Rehberg and Nik Void. Editions Mego is proud to present their second and final release. No this is not some kind of Beatles synthetic AI that raises the dead reconstructed recordings but rather a new album made by the humans and their machines.

The initial meeting of Rehberg and Void was in London in 2016 and despite or due to their mutual awkwardness found solace and compatibility in the fact that they both had a similar electronic modular set up, along with matching cases to transport all. The idea to collaborate was an obvious and organic process as a means to connect their individual gear together and observe the outcome. The fruits of these initial experiments, recorded in London, resulted in the playful experimentation of their acclaimed 2017 release 33 33 (eMego 251).

Now in 2024 Editions Mego presents the logically titled follow up, 33 34. These sessions were recorded six months after the initial recordings at Peter’s home in Vienna. This was planned out as a mirror city release to the original London recordings. With Peter having access to his full studio set up this time around we encounter a rich audio landscape which organically folds together a variety of musical genres blurring any distinction between these forms so the resulting music hovers as a new cloud of sound. Any musical form, be it industrial, electro-acoustic, ambient, drone and techno all coexist and melt into the other as the ensuing result unveils a hypnotic swarm of divergent sounds (music). When active there were no lines or contexts with NPVR, either between sound or genre within these recordings or live where NPVR were at home playing at a techno club one night and an avant garde venue the next.

The initial session of these recordings was edited by Rehberg and sent to Void to further develop. Over time the final versions were agreed on and then shelved as other outside projects took over. The awkwardness had been surmounted and the two had become close friends. NPVR performed at a range of venues such as Tresor, Sutton House, Corsica, Blitz, Paris GRM #Focus2, LEV Festival and Rigas Skanumezs Festival. Following Rehberg’s untimely passing Void had difficulty listening back to the sessions but eventually thought it fit to complete and release this album, of which even the artwork (like 33 33, an image from Zurich photographer, Georg Gatsas) had been decided upon prior to Rehberg parting ways.

There is an unmistakable joy to these recordings. One encounters an enthralling exploration of their chosen machines which conveys the excitement of what can be randomly conjured when people speak through such devices. There is no grand statement or argument here, just the sheer thrill of creation and the recorded results of random encounters. The art of collaboration was always a mainstay of Rehberg’s practice from the advent of the MEGO adventure. Rehberg & Bauer was an initial collaboration with former business partner Ramon Bauer. Even at this stage one can hear a relaxed sense of delight in the sheer discovery of sound.

A mix made for the Wire magazine following the release of 33 33 hints at the freedom that comes with endless urge for exploration and discovery. Abstract tracks from Z'EV. Jérôme Noetinger and Jung An Tagen are included alongside British stalwarts The Fall and New Order. There were no lines between pop / academic / underground or mainstream in Rehberg’s world. All of it sat at the same table. It is just matter in the atmosphere, like the diverse exploration found in these recordings that comprise 33 34.

Towards the end of his life Rehberg was obsessing over the immense output of the German ambient musician Pete Namlook. An artist renowned for not only his sprawling catalogue of ambient masterpieces but one who often said his main inspiration was nature. This is apt with regards to the work of NPVR which also aligns with such thought as the intertwining of the two individual artists and their machines results in a natural symbiotic flow, as it happens, just like in the world around us.

This is the third release by Trevor Dunn (Mr Bungle, Fantomas, Trio Convulsant, various with John Zorn) and Kevin Rutmanis (Tomahawk, Melvins, Cows, Hepa/Titus) On this outing Trevor joins Lords and Lady Kevin (duo of Kevin Rutmanis and drummer/artist Gina Skwoz) for a full length LP "Last Days at Hot Slit"

Songs are loosely based on assorted gospel, blues and jazz songs, some original, some covers. Included is a re-working of Mingus "Devil Woman". The trio based the pieces on improvisations that were then arranged and used to build free standing songs. A multitude of instruments were exploited by all those involved, to create a sizzling blend of aural delicacies. The album title is from a collection by writer Andrea Dworkin, often sited as the Celine of feminism. Less outre perhaps than their previous recordings, these songs hover somewhere between soundtrack- like excursions, to jazz/ blues mutations to a demented "rock" sounding affair. Something for everybody, or perhaps, nobody! Uniting former and current members of Tomahawk, Last Days At Hot Slit marks a powerful reunion between Rutmanis and Dunn. The record took shape gradually, born from Rutmanis's raw, unconventional bass recordings. "I sent Trevor a phone recording of some hideous bass racket and asked if he wanted to add anything," Rutmanis shares. "What he sent back was something like delicious fresh cherries with ice and banana slices." The pair's combined creativity gave rise to a new, immersive soundscape, while their collaborative piece, Crackpot Whorehead, set the tone for the current formation of Lords and Lady Kevin."

“In a concert, I show something with a beginning, a middle and an end. But, there is no end. Of course, there is no end. Because I am the music, and I am still here.” - Sophie Agnel

‘Learning’ - Sophie Agnel’s first solo LP, feels like the dark, physical inversion of her excellent ‘Song’ which came out on Relative Pitch earlier this year. Sinking her unique sound into vinyl for the first time, the LP arrives as Agnel recovers from a brain tumour - a shocking discovery that will require Agnel to start again with the piano. It’s a terrifying prospect, but Agnel has been here before, having reorientated herself almost entirely away from her early classical training over the last 4 decades of her work.

‘When I was young I had very good ears, oriole absolute. Then later I began to make strange sounds with my piano, to do different kinds of music. I was more interested in the sounds than the melody, for example. I remember once I sat down in a shop to try to read the scores of Schubert and there was a light emitting a very strong bzzzzzzz. And I couldn't listen to my oriole internal - I couldn't read the score. I was entirely subjugated by the sound of the light. And I understood that something had changed. Ten years before I could read and not hear the light. Now I understood that my ears were completely different. I was more open to the sounds of life.”

Born in Paris in the 60’s and playing her parents piano as soon as she could stand up, Agnel quickly grew tired of the classical world. What frustrated her was the strange disconnect between the frame of the piano and its keyboard - a weird boundary that seemed to form some hushed code of etiquette. “The first thing I put inside the piano was a plastic goblet. I’d seen a few pianists do it: Fred Van Hove, for example, put rubber balls inside his. But what didn’t appeal to me was that there seemed to be no link between the pianos outside and inside.”If you see Agnel play now, the body of her piano is littered with fish tins, ping pong balls, wooden blocks - not that you’d recognize their sounds. Having absorbed the language of the European avant-garde, Agnel is known for pulling the piano’s interior outside of itself by tipping her handbag into it. But these ‘strange sounds’ don’t just come from Cage - they also share the poetic force of Cecil Taylor and ‘Learning’ demonstrates that Agnel’s work on the piano's keyboard is just as important as what she’s littered on its strings. The record lets loose her ability to unleash a formidable sound mass and then rope it back to one single, clarifying note. With one hand, Agnel plays 88 tuned drums and on the other an enormous guitar - with the LP rotating through oncoming trains, and blues harmonica and feedback. It’s single minded stuff, borne out of a dedication to a wholly personal language of gesture, accumulation and deft reduction. “Maybe when I’m 80 I will not need anything,” Agnel says in a recent film made at her home. “I will do the same but with one note, and one finger. Maybe it's enough.”

‘Learning’ arrives in a reverse board sleeve designed by Jereon Wille. Recorded live at Cafe OTO by Billy Steiger on 6th June 2023 and 4th June 2024. Mixed by James Dunn and Benjamin Pagier. Side B edited by Benjamin Pagier. Mastered and cut by Loop-O. Front photograph by Aimé Agnel. Typography and layout by Jeroen Wille.

Apex Ten, a Belgian trio hovering in Space Rock, Desert/ stoner Rock and Psychedelic, mainly instrumental, offers a unique experience at each appearance. Fans of bands such as Electric Moon, Ecstatic Vision, Colour Haze, Kyuss or Hawkwind will be able to relate to them during the spacial, strange and contemplative atmospheres they develop. The sound is based on the energetic and powerful bass sound, paired with catchy and energetic drum lines. On top of it, the guitar melodies enable the crowd to travel and dissociate. In addition, the powerful vocal accompanies the listener and becomes the leader of this cathartic experience. On stage, Apex Ten brings their music to life with captivating performances that transport audiences into their expansive sonic world. Their ability to seamlessly transition between delicate, introspective moments and thunderous crescendos makes each show a mesmerizing experience. With a growing reputation for their innovative approach and dedication to their craft, Apex Ten is carving out a distinctive place in the modern rock landscape. For those seeking music that challenges convention and stirs the soul, Apex Ten is a band that stands at the forefront of creative exploration

If people were unaware of the significance of Joan Baez to western culture, her portrayal in the Bob Dylan biopic A Complete Unknown (played by Monica Barbaro) underlines how central she was to the popularization of folk music in the early 1960s. And it is her decade- previous relationship with Dylan that hovers joyously over Diamonds & Rust. The title track is about a thinly disguised ex-lover who calls up out of the blue; it remains one of her most loved songs in a 65- year- career.

There's a playful cover of "Simple Twist Of Fate" from Dylan's then just released Blood On The Tracks, complete with impersonation in a later verse; and "Winds Of The Old Days", written in response to Dylan touring again after a lengthy hiatus. Diamonds & Rust is a perfect, sunshine- drenched album of west- coast folk- tinged rock, full of star session players. It could almost have been a signal to all the recent comers on her patch many of them friends and colleagues, Joni Mitchell, Carole King, Maria Muldaur that Baez was here first and was sweetly reasserting her authority. Just listen to her mastery on "Children & All That Jazz", her cover of Stevie Wonder's "Never Thought You'd Leave In Summer" and the poignant closing medley of "I Dream Of Jeannie/Danny Boy".

For our ninth offering we have ventured out of our small but fertile swamp in search of another source of magick. Meandering across boggy pastures new, we crossed paths with Steevio, who sat hovering serenely in the fern covered shade of a nearby valley. Instantly recognising the singular vision of this fabled artist, we hastily gathered our nets and cast them under Steevio’s branches, capturing four beautiful offerings as they wriggled towards us. Upon the return to our mulch, it became clear that we could not contain Steevio’s creations, so willful was their vitality. It was therefore all we could do to release them back to the universal dance from whence they came.

The dance germinates with the writhing polyrhythmic ‘Apricity’. Hearing the crunch of frost laden grass beneath our webbed toes, we look above us to search for the sun. Angular beams of light escape over the horizon, as the warmth of Steevio’s machines coalesce. A glistening hi hat breaks through the membrane to bind his creation and anchor its ever shifting arms.

‘Octopus’ glides gracefully through a sun-dappled kelp forest. Sub frequencies rumble up from the shadowy darkness below, rippling along the fronds as they ascend. As the ocean begins to churn, a wriggling melodic tentacle parts the foliage, gleaming with primordial energy. Its joyful visit to the surface realm leaves us with a brief yet powerful reminder of the mystery beneath.

The glow of the midwinter sun warms our bones on ‘Apricity (Sunrise Mix)’. Percussive elements bubble out of the depths, forming intricate cascading patterns as they grow over the perfectly formed kicks. The moog filter tames the brew with Steevio’s intuitive restraint , until he releases its mighty power upon the gleeful forest dwellers, to their rapturous gratitude.

With ‘Adref’ we return home. The sedate tempo provides oceanic space for a melody which inhales and exhales over a familiar landscape of perfectly tuned percussion. With each breath the melody seems to increase its reach, until it’s buried deep within our bones, its memory resonating on long after it’s gone.

Steevio’s music reflects the universal moments where seemingly chaotic and disparate elements are suddenly revealed to be perfectly harmonious. Of course examples of this are always universally present in nature, and have been eternally, but we have to be reminded to appreciate them. In the same way that a wave deposits a perfect line of shells on a beach, dew freezes on grass, or individual strands of mycelial hyphae bind together to form incredible patterns, Steevio’s music is likewise; effortlessly considered. For us, it has more in common with the unrelenting flow of a river than it does with dance music. It is psychedelic music in the same sense that nature is intuitively psychedelic; without ever leaning into any tried tropes of what is culturally considered ‘psychedelic’ music.

The perfect accompaniment to that deep fall feeling, Frank Maston's beloved 2025 single finally gets its long overdue vinyl release! As our friends New Commute articulated beautifully, "Foreign Affairs" drifts through London fog and Paris shimmer, its avant-lounge glow wrapping each melody in a wistful ache. On B-side "Liaison," ghostly strings and a solitary piano paint a deserted twilight shoreline, Pacôme Henry's distinct 16mm cinematography hovering nearby." We've pressed just 500 of these gorgeous records so, be quick, Maston always flies.

Originally written for a film Maston was scoring in 2024, he decided to keep it aside for himself. And, well, us all. The song has a vibe Maston has previously flirted with; he wanted to dive in...all the way: "The arrangement is huge, definitely the biggest I've written, and it merited live musicians playing together. Also another experiment, to do it with all live musicians playing my arrangements. I wanted to make something that you'd want to put on when you bring a date back to your place. It's on the edge of sappy but that's sort of the point. I decided to give myself an unlimited budget - just spend whatever was necessary to get the right musicians and record it the best way possible."

It's this dedication to sonic perfection which Maston is rightly lauded for. We couldn't not put this on a cute wee 7" when we heard it.

The A side, "Foreign Affairs", is a brilliant, Bacharach-esque romp with a bit of that unapologetically romantic Morricone angle. Says Frank: "I was trying to synthesize that sort of jazzy/sexy/classy/romantic mature sound, where the edginess is in these surprising chord changes and subtle arrangement cues."

A wonderful complement, the flipside "Liaison", evokes Martin Denny, but Eden's Island was in Frank's head, too. He wanted to take a deep dive into that exotica sound - a genre he'd referenced a bit but never fully committed to - so the piece is lavished with those big sighing strings and a pretty lush arrangement. Happily, it all sounds super rich. Also, "Umiliani is always a reference for this sort of thing (Il Corpo etc.), That almost mechanical arrangement of things moving together and a simple melody over it (something I nicked from Ennio)".

The two songs were recorded in Paris and London in the summer of 2024. Aside from the rhythm section and piano, there's vibraphone, a full string section, trombones and alto and concert flutes. "Liaison" boasts strings, vibraphone, a female choir and tenor sax. Maston played piano and acoustic guitar but that's it (as opposed to playing basically everything on Tulips). His friend Oscar Sholto Robertson played drums and percussion whilst Maston mainstay Elie Ghersinu (formerly of L'Eclair) played bass.

The theme for a lot of Maston's titles is that they have two meanings. So "Foreign Affairs" is both a reference to him living abroad and the idea of constant cultural diplomacy and then there's this sexy/cheeky interpretation of foreign affairs in a literal way - "an affair abroad, ooh la la!". The artwork for this 7" single has Roman campaign flags, referencing the foreign affairs in sort of a sassy way. There's a violence implied. But then if you look from a bit of a distance it looks like a bouquet of flowers. So Frank thought it went with the spirit of the title. Also, he's used a lot of roman motifs now so he kept that theme going, even with the terracotta cover.

This is a vitally important project for our Frank. He explains why, here: "For whatever reason, these songs really resonated with me. I feel like they are either the end of a stylistic era for me or the beginning of a new one. They're sonically the culmination of what I'd been working towards and trying to get better at since I started. If I heard this when I was making Tulips I would have said "YES! *This* is what I want to be doing!". So that's the essence of it. It's a statement and the intended reaction is "This is really good, but why now?". Like the edge to it is the context of someone making this sort of thing in 2025, which I think is a huge strength. The real heads will get it. My music always has like a 2-3 year latency until people really catch onto it, and these ones will have a nice payoff I think."

We couldn't put it better ourselves. So we haven't.

With its 31st release, EYA Records welcomes German producer Dominik Marz for a full solo outing, and the result is a shimmering, synth-laced journey that feels both retro and radically forward-thinking. Beginning to Fly EP is a four-track package that seamlessly balances warmth and drive—making it as suitable for peak-time club energy as it is for the early morning hours when the dancefloor turns inward. From the outset, Marz delivers on the EP’s title. The music feels elevated—each track hovering in that sweet spot between euphoria and control, never overreaching, always gliding. The synth work is lush and textural, channeling a sort of cosmic nostalgia that recalls early ‘90s techno and electro, yet with a sleek, modern production edge.

Recital releases The Holy Restaurant, the new full-length album by Derek Baron, and their first solo LP since Curtain (Recital, 2020).

The album is built from years of miniature transcriptions of improvisations, functioning in many ways as a sister to Curtain. Half-thoughts and mistakes are revisited, gilded, and illuminated. The floorboards of the album are laid with piano, organ, string pads, while serrated accruements (distortions, flourishes, and recording interferences) step and drop overhead. The resulting conflux, as Baron notes in the accompanying booklet “becomes the point and the problem to explore.”

The second track “Oven Girls” opens with us galloping on a horse in some video-game meadow on a bed of MIDI strings. Abruptly, a helicopter soars over us and we transition to a latticed guitar and woodwind exploration. The album rolls on in this fashion, juxtaposing musical half-sentences within a museum of sounds rag-picked from history and daily life. Emotional interviews with Midwestern friars who build and sell caskets are set against gothic piano and guitar duets. On “Music in the Casket,” A disorienting and hilariously epic guitar solo erupts. The penultimate titular piece, “The Holy Restaurant,” sets a text written by Baron’s grandfather. A small chorus voices his words, echoing the humanistic storytelling of “Blue” Gene Tyranny’s A Letter From Home. Under sunlit piano progressions, a fleet of smokey trumpets emerges.

Running throughout the album is a series of “traces”: short melodic phrases painted over again and again with different real and MIDI instrumentation. The “luxurious asceticism of doubling” as Baron puts it. They explain, “Part of the allure for me is that the ‘original’ material is itself kind of thin, sketchy, meaningless, maybe calling attention to itself only by way of a felicitous mistake. Hearing, transcribing, and learning what was basically only ever played first on accident becomes the guiding concern.”

The album’s shifting, variegated forms and voices pass quickly; the record feels both comforting and elusive, suitable for any hour of the day.

The Holy Restaurant features guest players Ed Atkins, Lucy Liyou, Quentin Moore, Emily Martin, Dominic Frigo, Jacob Wick, and several of Baron’s family members. It is released in a limited edition vinyl pressing of 200 copies, accompanied by a booklet of effusive program notes by the composer, alongside an assemblage of photographs, scores, and artwork.

Arriving two years after the first chapter, Absurd Matter 2 isn’t just a sequel, it’s an evolution, redrawing the boundaries established by its acclaimed predecessor. The Berlin-based Italian producer tempers his confrontational sonics with rare moments of introspection, shifting seamlessly between blown-out noise, warped hip-hop, mutant club experimentation, and weightless ambience. Textures disintegrate and reassemble, rhythms flex and crumble, and every detail balances on the edge of fantasy. It’s a poetic, layered response to Nino Pedone’s changing physical reality: the gradual hearing loss and perceptual renegotiation triggered by Ménière’s disease, which struck him in 2022. At first, the experience felt like betrayal, a brutal disconnection from the very sense that had shaped his life. But over time, the disorientation turned into a strange kind of focus. The silence between sounds became as expressive as the sounds themselves.
The first Absurd Matter was a visceral reaction to trauma; the second is more reflective – an ambiguous chronicle of sensory recalibration. Pedone doesn’t represent his altered inner reality through extremes, but through depth, zooming in on illusory distortions, tense rhythmic fluctuations, and fragmented sonics. Dense, immersive, and mystical, the album mirrors Pedone’s evolving relationship with perception itself.
Tinnitus-like feedback wails and noir-ish strings introduce “Repeater”, making it immediately clear that Pedone is painting a more delicately finessed image this time around. Fleshed out by raps from cult MCs billy woods and E L U C I D, the track is marked by subtle, sophisticated contrasts: the blurred, inverted rhythms that couch Armand Hammer’s haunted back-and-forth, and the glitchy interference that offsets the lavish orchestral phrases. Backwoodz associate Fatboi Sharif lends his Lynchian drawl to “Bandage Chipped Wings”, grounding Pedone’s lysergic rhythmic distortions with syrupy, horror-inspired couplets. Pedone also invites discomfort into “Crash Landing”, with droning, metallic tones that contradict South Central rapper ICECOLDBISHOP’s elastic flow. “Bitch, I don't give a fuck about anybody,” he squawks over Pedone’s incongruous rasping textures and time-warped beats, “cash out at any party.” Working alongside London’s Loraine James on production, Pedone reunites with Moor Mother on “I Saw The Light”, blending James’ soft-focus atmospherics with soundsystem-damaging, overdriven bass hits and rusted percussive snips. Moor Mother’s assertive words hover over the wreckage, tightening Pedone’s themes of overstimulation and altered awareness as they stutter and veer off course, vanishing into the backdrop.
Contrasting his more pensive experiments, Pedone’s dancefloor deviations are more concentrated on Absurd Matter 2 than ever before. He torches a stuttering dembow structure on “X”, obfuscating the rhythm’s familiar energy with disturbing audio hallucinations. On “Splintered”, he reunites with Kenyan prodigy Slikback, mangling neon-lit trance arpeggios with dissociated trap rhythms. He sharpens his skills to a fine point on “Oblivion Step”, observing 2- step through a lens of distortion and personal abstraction, shaking blipping synth leads over neck-snapping drums and counteracting the momentum with airless sci-fi soundscapes.
Perhaps the album’s most surprising moment arrives with “Viel”, which features vocals from Los Angeles-based composer Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith. Together, Pedone and Smith chance upon their notion of dub techno, fogging synth stabs and ghostly vocal traces into eerie harmonic distortions. On some level, it’s almost pop music, a far cry from the bleak dissonance of Absurd Matter and a hopeful way to reframe turbulence as transformation. Absurd Matter 2 doesn’t simply document a process; it enacts one. It doesn’t offer clarity; it invites disorientation. It’s not a map of the labyrinth, but a foghorn piercing the darkness.

Heavyweight Dub album by Alien Trackers, a new project by cosmic trumpet specialist Pablo Volt (STA) and Jahtari space ship mechanic disrupt, landing right in the sweet spot between soulful Black Ark-warmth, digital Firehouse dancehall hitters and Jahtarian Dub psychedelics.

A lazy day at a beach, in a galaxy far, far away... Feel the sand between your tentacles and splash in the emerald acid sea. Snorkel with plasma squids and shock eels. Marvel at the double suns during the magic twilight cycle and bask in their glorious gamma rays. Gaze into the depths of the local Vortex...

Coming on alien-green vinyl, with hand drawn art by David 8000 Farris, additional bass & guitars from Dubsworth, and an all four thumbs up-rating, 'Dubs from Vortex Beach' is landing in your orbit right now!
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